I think my car is invisible. It's the only thing that makes sense. I get up in the morning, I look in the mirror and I exist. I get into my car and --POOF*-- I disappear.
At first I thought it was just that my car was so dirty, no one could tell the difference between me and the road. But no, I think my car is actually invisible. So much so that old men cannot see it and try to kill me.
Three times in the last three days, an old man (and by that I mean a 55+ adult male, no offense Dad.) has attempted to run me off the road.
On Friday, I was driving to North Battleford. I was skipping along the highway at 117 kph or 70mph (Yes, I was speeding. Shush.) and minding my own business. An old man pulled in off an intersection, swung across the lane he was supposed to go into and jumped into mine -- the one I had pulled into so he could safely get on the road. He did this while going significantly slower than I was.
I slammed on the brakes, pulled back into the other lane, and SURPRISE! so did the old man. Directly in front of me again. I hates him. I drove by and he didn't even look up. I think he was worried my glare of death would turn him to stone.
The next day, I was heading back home. I got onto the main highway and was clipping along at the same rate as last time. I noticed a semi pulling onto the highway from a stop, so I slipped into the other lane and eased up on the gas. Just then, another old man pulled in behind the semi, decided he was going too slow, and pulled into my lane. Without signalling, without checking, without regard for human existence. Asshat.
I slammed on the brakes, barely missed him, skidded a bit, and righted myself. The truck continued on his merry way slowly picking up speed. Finally he passed the semi, and I was able to go by. He didn't even notice.
Finally, yesterday I am going to meet a friend for coffee. I am driving along a main drag and a semi pulls out of a local truck stop. I slow right down so he can get in without problem and then I follow behind him. He is turning at the same place I am, so as he goes by the Tim Horton's drive thru line, he pulls into the turning lane. I go to follow.
EXCEPT I CAN'T. Because some old dude has snuck out of the Tim's exit and into that lane. DESPITE THERE BEING A TON OF TRAFFIC. He looks up and sees me signalling to get in. He knows I had to wait for the semi in order to get into that lane. So you know what he does?
You do, don't you?
HE PULLS UP SO HIS BUMPER IS TOUCHING THE SEMI.
Seriously. I got the hint. You aren't going to let me in. You're VERY important. I get it.
I followed him for awhile just to make him uncomfortable. I cursed him with baldness and canker sores. I cursed his children with adult acne and his grandchildren with terminal stupidity.
And then I went for coffee.
*wrote POOP here first. Not quite what I meant.